Ponte and Jamilani

There were quite a few people milling about, on the sands at Lantessama, and not just for the ones that the black dragoness Shivay had lain. The black dragoness gazed around, spotting her rider, Heartshy, who still enjoyed chatting with one of the other riders, Spell, even if his dragon had lost their mating flight.
Shivay had become a little more bold in her ways, since their earliest days at Lantessama so long ago. Living at Bald Mountain with many other dragons and their varied riders - not all of them elves - had given her a bit more confidence. After all, she was among the very first of that tribe's dragons, and as such she needed to dole out wisdom and watch over younger dragons as they arrived.
These, the youngest of them all, wobbled in their shells. There was a hand-and-two, or as the humans might call it 'six' eggs on the mound of warm sand under her dark wings. How strange that she had to learn to count in two 'languages'? Both five and four fingered hands, human and elfin. But there were more than just humans or elves at this clutch, waiting and watching. One of the awaiting had a strange near-wolf smell to her, but she wouldn't let too many people near enough to know why. There were dragons, too, and that made Shivay wonder: dragons could be bonded to other dragons, what about back home? Would that ever happen there at Bald Mountain?
It was obvious, though, that not everyone gathered here before the eggs would find their bond here. Shivay felt a little bad for those who would have to walk away, or fly, or climb or dance... There were so many active and energetic potential bonds for her children.
Heartshy would keep track of who went with whom, humming to herself and plucking notes on her little harp. She'd seemed quite happy that there was another musician among the group standing before these eggs, and the elfess seemed somewhat amused that most of the candidates were dark-haired and talented performers of some kind.
The black and green sire of this clutch watched silently, but proudly. He'd had to bicker a bit with his rider, to remain on hand for this hatching, yes yes they had places to be and things to do back at home, but these were his children too! What kind of sire would he be, if he didn't even stay to see what hatched from the eggs?
Those eggs were softly ivory white, but speckled in tiny splashes of faint blue, pale green, and yellowish gold. No one could really say whether that had anything to do with what might come from them - the fact that both parents were quite dark meant it was easier to see them against Shivay's body when she nestled close to them.
But now, they were moving in earnest, now they were ready to come out and hatch. Every ounce of her instinct - matched by her mate's - said to sing for these eggs, and sing they did. Softly at first and then joined by numerous others with 'old world' blood, every hatching was special to them. The eggs could be heard to respond, with eager cheeping, somewhat muffled.
Shivay raised her wings, and stood slowly, she wasn't sure exactly whether to remain right there while the eggs hatched, or just what. She'd never done this! She did however let her instincts rule when several onlookers started to get a little too close - hissing a bit, then suddenly realizing what she'd done, and interrupting herself with a shy peep and nod at the pair of humans who had approached. They had been closer, they'd even touched her eggs a couple times while they were waiting for the hatching. But now... this was different. This was her babies' time to shine.
Several of the eggs bulged and one cracked softly, though only Shivay could see its contents until the rest of the egg fell away. She nudged with her wing tip, shaking loose some of the shell but inadvertently covering part of the little hatchling in the soft sand around them. Shortly, though, the dragonet stood higher and took a deep breath, sneezed away the sand, and shook herself off firmly.
People nearby couldn't really tell... was this a dragon, or had a bucket of paint spilled? More eggs cracked and the hatchlings bonded. While the hatchlings were busy getting fed or stretching out, affirming their bonds, the last two eggs were still bulging and cracking with the occasional cheep or muted creel from within. It was a dark-blue winged hatchling that emerged first, her hide a swirl of deep blue, paler and medium blues, and bright yellow-gold here and there. A marvellous beryl and iolite, as one of the local recordkeepers announced.
One of those standing nearest took the greatest note of that combination, because the dragoness was badgering him trying to ask what he thought of it. 
"I ... I think it's amazing, Jamilani! And it'll be fun to see all of the patterns when you start to fly!" Ponte laughed.
"That won't be for a while, it'll have to wait until you feed me, at least." She commented, and waited for him to pick her up, rather than walking herself over to the food...

Jamilani, still a little princess, sat up from the ledge where she'd been napping and looked down onto her sleeping bond who was on top of her tail. He loved to sleep next to her but that meant she couldn't quite leave. 
Jamilani flicked her tail and thought. In the end she decided that this was probably one of those band-aid situations where fast was better then slow. So she stretched, supported him with her front legs and then jumped to launch herself out of the window. 
"Jamilani?" the muddled voice of her rider asked.
"Yes, Ponte?" she asked sweetly.
"What are you doing out so early?"
"Why I'm rising." she told him and called out for chasers, "I'll make certain you wake up."
"That's not funny!" he called, but his swirly blue dragoness was long gone. 

Lantessama Isle
Cy DragonStake  -   Darkling Dawn

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